


Life Upgrade

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awesome Charlie, College Student Castiel, College Student Charlie, College Student Dean, Cute Castiel, Cute Castiel/Dean Winchester, Evil Genius Charlie Bradbury, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mutual Friends, Redeemed Dean, She Basically Ships It Without Explictly Saying It, night out, restaurant/bar setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 07:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7792081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I thought you said <em>I<em> was dreamy…” Cas can’t keep the pinch of jealousy out of his tone as he frowns at his reflection in the mirror.</em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em>"Oh no, you are,” Charlie reassures. “It’s just… you’re the installation of Dreamy everyone has and feels too comfortable with to upgrade, but Dean’s…”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Cas nods and parts his lips for a small scoff, “Dean’s the latest update. Great.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Upgrade

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt by adreamingsongbird, as seen on onetruepairingideas on Tumblr: "we have a mutual friend who sometimes never stops talking about technobabble and we met when we went to dinner with them and you and i kept making eye contact and instantly bonded over our vague smiling and nodding as our friend kept talking. (it’s cool that their stuff makes them happy but we both have no idea what to say)"
> 
> Thank you so much for the inspiration! Not sure if you're in the SPN fandom, but I found you on here under the same name and thought I'd gift this fic to you, since it was your prompt. (:

 

Charlie Bradbury’s definition of a night out typically consists of multiple gaming controllers and _Fallout 4._

Tonight is a rare exception. Tonight, Castiel as well as a friend of Charlie’s are cordially invited to dinner at Oz’s Playground, an interactive restaurant paying homage to Baum’s nineteenth century classic. Cas isn’t as big a fan as Charlie (seriously, evil flying monkeys?) but he is curious to see how they’ve recreated the Scarecrow and the infamous witch drowning scene.

Most of Charlie’s friends are over a headset with the exception of Cas, whom she met during their Computer Science class when Cas noticed her clenching and unclenching her right fist and recommended arnica gel. They hadn’t talked until a week later, when Charlie sat next to him and praised his genius. (Cas is a forestry major and his father’s a novelist who struggles with carpal tunnel as well.)

So needless to say, he’s not sure who this other friend of hers is, but he’s excited to get out of the house after non-stop doubles at the Gas n’ Sip _and_ finals week. Cas passed with three A’s and a B (in Computer Science, of course. He would’ve gotten knocked to a C had he not formed a fast alliance with Charlie).

“ _Which shirt are you wearing?_ ”

“Uh, I was just gonna wear the white blouse underneath my work vest.”

“ _Okay,”_ Charlie says on the other end with a sigh, _“first of all, don’t call it a blouse.”_

“What’s wrong with the term blouse?”

“ _Only women refer to shirts as blouses, Cas. Everyone knows that.”_

Cas scoffs, using his fingers to comb his gel-slicked hair to the left side, “Well _now_ everyone knows that. Besides, what’s wrong with the bl—shirt?”

_“Just wear something a little more… festive.”_

“What am I, a Thanksgiving turkey?”

“ _Well, you might_ want _to be for... someone.”_

Cas’s hands sit in his brown bird’s nest of hair when his brows furrow. “Wait, this isn’t a double date, is it?”

Charlie’s quick to respond: “ _No, no! It’s just Dean’s… well, Dean’s dreamy. And that’s coming from a lesbian.”_

“I thought you said _I_ was dreamy…” Cas can’t keep the pinch of jealousy out of his tone as he frowns at his reflection in the mirror.

“ _Oh no, you are,”_ Charlie reassures. “ _It’s just… you’re the installation of Dreamy everyone has and feels too comfortable with to upgrade, but Dean’s…”_

Cas nods and parts his lips for a small scoff, “Dean’s the latest update. Great.”

_“The navy blue shirt brings out your eyes!”_

Cas can practically see her batting her eyelashes and throwing her long red hair over her shoulders. And even though he’s strictly into guys, that somehow does the trick every time. Charlie’s like the little sister he never wanted, but can’t refuse.

“On it,” he sighs, hanging up. His attitude towards the gangling sophomore staring back at him hasn’t changed since a few seconds ago. His hair is like a windmill: It’ll only blow in one direction no matter where it’s put. He’s also breaking out around his chin…

Not that he’s seriously considering hooking up with Charlie’s friend. Cas doesn’t even know anything _about_ the guy. He could be an axe murderer for all he knows.

A very _attractive_ axe murderer, from the sounds of it. And Charlie knows him, so he’s probably only pinned that title on _Final Fantasy._

Cas hangs his head and prays for the evil flying monkeys to carry him away.

***

The restaurant is pretty cool, with high-flying gadgets and state-of-the-art holograms, but Cas’s attention is diverted by one glaringly obvious confirmation:

Dean _is_ dreamy.

He reminds Cas of a reincarnated James Dean. Dean's up-do resembles a northbound haystack. He's lightly tanned, and from the words that occasionally (when Charlie pauses for breath, that is) grace his plush pink lips in a typically deep tone, seems overall well-rounded, with the omission of his jawline. Seriously, the thing can cut through glass. That and his lean runner's body. The guy's only wearing one layer (an ACDC shirt, respectfully) if you don't count the red flannel hanging off his broad shoulders, which should be illegal.

Cas's favorite feature, though, has to be his eyes. Every time those bright green emeralds shine at him over the table, Cas feels like the jeweler at _Jared’s_ took the pair of earrings he's eyeing out of the glass display for an unfiltered and blinding view. 

And his smile. Every time Charlie so much as mentions the words "high" or "res", his playful tongue separates a pair of pearly whites that send the freckles on his cheeks flying in the opposite direction.

Cas smiles back effortlessly. It’s the first time in a while he can say he’s done that.

They don’t communicate beyond gummy smiles and furtive winks until Charlie calls it a night at quarter to nine. “Peace out, bitches,” she says, lifting herself from the booth to supply both boys an intentionally over-the-top goodbye kiss on the temple.

Dean and Cas groan once she’s out of sight, dragging a hand down the slightly wet part next to their eye. They’re so in sync, Cas meets Dean’s gaze again at the other end of the booth and they chuckle.

“So…” Cas starts, clasping his hands together. Dean laughs again. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just, you’ve got a little…” He gestures to Cas’s temple. Cas paws the area and isn’t surprised when glittery pink lip gloss comes off. “Wait.” Before he reaches for his napkin, Dean’s leaning over the booth and grazing his fingers over the inflicted area. Cas blushes. Dean’s hands are calloused and blistered, but really, _really_ warm. “Sorry,” he says, face as flush as the marinara he was eating. “Your hair kinda stuck to it.”

A giggle slips from Cas, “It’s okay. Do you maybe wanna move this conversation to the bar?”

“Is that your way of asking me if I want to unlearn ten years’ worth of technobabble?”

“More or less.”

Dean’s unable to contain a smile. “Yeah, a drink sounds good.”

They talk for a while. Some about Charlie, who they both agree they love for her unparalleled passion for gaming and technology, but sometimes it gets to the point, where, like tonight, two perfectly good strangers inadvertently bond over their complete cluelessness. “Which is fine,” Dean insists, nursing his third ale as he nudges Cas, “not because I like being subjected to awkward situations, but you have a really nice smile.”

Cas tries harder not to hide the action after that statement.

As it turns out, Dean knows Charlie through a mutual class too. “Folklore and Mythology,” he explains. “It’s the farthest I can get from my degree, but the subject’s actually pretty interesting if you can get past Zeus’s uncanny resemblance to Storm from the _X-Men,_ but it covers a Humanities credit, so I’m not complaining.”

“What’re you majoring in?”

“Music Therapy with a minor in Human Relations.”

Cas drinks that in easier than his cocktail. “Wow. You’re keeping busy.”

“Yeah, it’s not exactly what my dad had in mind, but I love to play music and I want to help people like it’s helped me.” Dean pauses. “I’ve had some… trouble… with authority in the past. But music’s pulled me back from that edge, you know?”

“That’s how I feel about nature,” Cas replies. “I grew up camping. Whenever I get in any sort of mental bind, I take a literal hike. I’ve always had a fascination with the sound of the wind blowing through the trees, the way the current beneath my feet moves… the best is the stars at night, especially in Illinois where I’m from. You can see Dippers sometimes.” He notices Dean staring at him and clears his throat. “Sorry, I tend to ramble.”

Dean shakes his head, a smile curving in the shape of the Big Dipper’s pot. “No, don’t be. I’m just amazed.”

Cas blushes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’re Charlie’s friend.”

Cas throws his head back in laughter at that comment, causing a few other heads to turn in their direction. “Yeah, I don’t think she’s seen a pinecone in her life.”

“We’re horrible people.”

“She’s probably said worse about me,” Cas reassures, sipping his colorful drink. “Like that time I showed up naked at her doorstep covered in bees.”

Dean nearly chokes on his beer. “I’m sorry, _what?!”_

“Oh no, I may be getting drunk, but I’m not drunk _enough_ to tell that story.”

“Fair enough,” Dean says, leaning on his elbows to throw a wink to Cas. “Maybe on a first date?”

Cas can feel a blush sticking to him like white bread on the roof of his mouth as a smile unfolds from his lips. “Definitely.”

 

He makes a mental note to send Charlie an ecard after their first date leads to some major personal upgrades.


End file.
